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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112345">Saved // Last Day on Earth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/charychangeling/pseuds/charychangeling'>charychangeling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asylum, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Survivor Guilt, Zombies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:06:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/charychangeling/pseuds/charychangeling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The asylum. A quite fitting name for the building, in which the hot-headed Elijah, his freedom-loving sister Eleanor and Owen, his best friend and caring doctor of the group, as leaders of the “Risen”, a small flock of apocalypse-survivors, have built themselves a secure base. Despite the safe accommodation however, the residents still have to face their own problems and fears. In Ellie’s case, the fact, that the current condition of her health prohibits her from leaving the immediate area and the feelings of guilt towards her friends and family tied to this chained state. Owen in the meantime is investigating the strange virus, threatening to erase humanity. But the second, results are starting to show themselves, another problem joins the rotten outside of the fences. The Saviors have targeted the Risen and are now trying to extort resources from them by using threats and provocations, which soon lead up to a war declaration. But what will happen, when their leader Negan finds out about the vaccine?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Negan/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Saved // Last Day on Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome!<br/>I’m really happy that you’ve somehow ended up here.<br/>In the following short preface, I will summarize all the small organizational things, I want to say before the beginning of this story.<br/>“Saved – The Last Day on Earth” is my first The Walking Dead fanfiction and is supposed to play independently from the original story. Its progress isn’t tied to the plot of the show or comics, although containing some characters, that aren’t introduced until the end of season six. But because this is an alternative universe fanfiction, there probably won’t be a lot or even no spoilers at all for the original’s storyline.<br/>Moreover, I don’t think I have to add that only the Risen, their residence and backstory, as well as some of the Saviors came from my pen and that I’ve just “borrowed” the rest of the characters for the sake of telling this small story.<br/>I’m also really looking forward to feedback of all kind and I want to encourage you to tell me, if you like my story or have any questions or complaints. I’m already excited to read all your thoughts and reactions, regarding my story.<br/>Finally, I want to mention, that English is not my first language. So please excuse any grammatical errors, that might pop up here and there, I will try to keep them at a minimum.<br/>Well then! I hope that you’ll have as much fun reading and immersing yourself into a world full of living and dead enemies, as I had writing.<br/>See you on the next page, in the middle of a gloomy, abandoned school hallway!<br/>-	Alice</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>♤<strong>♤</strong>♤</p><p>
  <em>“For countless, there is only one cure – catastrophe.”<br/>
- Christian Morgenstern</em>
</p><p>♤<strong>♤</strong>♤</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Prologue</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The breathless, almost palpable silence had settled over the long corridor, she was slowly walking down, like a soft, suffocating duvet. The sound of the footsteps of her heavy boots was thrown back by the greasy grey walls and cut through the quiet like short, tinny gunshots.</p><p>How fitting.</p><p>She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and her pale, shaking fingers clutched the metal in her hands - which remained ice cold, despite the feverish heat of her body - even harder. The barrel of the revolver grazed her thigh, and she shuddered.</p><p>The moment had arrived. Finally. The moment of truth. How long had she been waiting for this exact moment? Months? Years? For this moment of liberation, of satisfaction. And now it was here, directly in front of her. She’d merely have to speed up her steps, stick out her hand, clench her teeth and seize it. It seemed unreal, almost as if she was merely floating inside a dream, in which she was both the audience and protagonist. The kind of dream that wasn’t clear on whether it was going to be wonderful or terrifying. It felt like she could be awoken any second by the glaring sunbeams and greeted by the song of the birds, covering her face with her pillows and dreading the remainder of the day.</p><p>She listened. But there was nothing. No singing birds, no gust of wind, not the sound of rustling sheets, nothing. Just silence, and the sound of her breath that was getting faster and faster by the second and that was as foreign to her as the metal in her hands.</p><p>The pale girl stopped abruptly. In the dim hallway she almost seemed like a, at the end of a long tunnel standing, ghost. Motionless. A gust of wind tousled her long white blonde, almost colorless hair and a strand of it fell on her still face, tickled her nose and lips. She didn’t wipe it away, perhaps didn’t even notice it. Instead, she looked at the large, painted column she was currently passing.</p><p>A broadly grinning light blue whale lolled under a scrawly painted bright orange sun in an, azure waves forming sea while a ridiculously high waterjet shot out of the hole in its back. A grey seal balanced a few inches away from it, on a white head of foam, a colorful water balloon on its friendly snout with whiskers, that were almost as thick as fingers.</p><p>Her grip loosened. She lowered her head. Her front teeth buried themselves into her chapped lower lip and she only lifted her chin again, as she tasted blood that ran into her mouth in a tiny trickle. The distinctive, coppery taste spread on her tongue and she swallowed.</p><p>It was already too late. There was no turning back now. She had made a decision and she wouldn’t be able to take it back now. She had passed the point of no return.</p><p>She looked at the radiant column again, which seemed as terribly out of place in this grey, hostile hallway as a tulip in the lettuce field, and suddenly she noticed it. Somebody had written a profane swearword in black ink on one of the bright white clouds, slowly hovering over the scenery. Tiny, almost unnoticeable but the artist nonetheless managed to turn the innocent children’s painting into something mocking, almost cynical.</p><p>An intense burning sensation started to spread inside her stomach, seemed to consume her from within like an angry, pulsating tumor. She had made her decision., was ready to take the ultimate, irrevocable step. She gripped the revolver harder, more determined. Her fingers had stopped shaking, but the soft clicking of the little hammer made her flinch as she forced it back, bewildered by how much easier it felt, compared to the last (or better the first) two times.</p><p>She started moving again, her steps firm and resolute, head held high. Her breath relaxed, only her heart was still beating fast and hectic, giving away the fear it contained. She knew her path. Yes, she knew it well. She had never been so sure about where the path, she had chosen would lead her to as in this one, delicious moment.</p><p>A single ray of sunshine fell through a much too small window and refracted in the silvery gleaming weapon she was holding. The beam was reflected and painted a small dot on the greyish blue door at the end of the dingy hallway, she was directly approaching. As if the world wanted to encourage her in her decision.</p><p>A glass door behind her rattled, but she didn’t turn around. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter right now. The thoughts were racing in her mind, but her breathing was still calm, relaxed. Her lips twitched and formed a relieved, confident smile.</p><p>She was practically there.</p><p>She closed her eyes, as she was walking the last few meters. Like a child, on its way to its birthday surprise, trembling in anticipation. The light, almost white eyelashes stroked softly over the skin under the eyes. Her tongue wetted her dry lips. The saliva burned in the still bleeding, slim, burst open wound.</p><p>She opened her eyes which shimmered in such a piercing, intense blue that they almost appeared to be a cool shade of violet. They seemed unnatural, almost too pale for the face of a human. Almost as if they had jumped out the cheesy illustration of an equally cheesy fairytale. They fixated the small iron door plate which was attached to the door with three tiny screws.</p><p>D27.</p><p>One letter, two numbers. So simple, yet so threatening. More than once they had made their way into a sinister nightmare or the confused thoughts of a sleepless night. Recurring like a mantra and unsettling as a thunderclap.</p><p>Fair fingers reached for the silver doorknob, the loaded, unlocked revolver at the stop. No trace of the hesitance which she had felt just minutes before. Instead, an icy coldness had taken its place. A determined, fearless, merciless coldness.</p><p>But before she could turn the doorknob, a rustle reached her ear through the red fog of her determination and rage. She turned her head in confusion and involuntarily lowered the weapon, her pale hand still resting on the doorknob.</p><p>“Attention, an announcement!”</p><p>The panting voice boomed out of a speaker that was attached about three feet above her to the wall at the opposite side of the hallway. Judging by the echo, the voice also blared from every other loudspeaker in the building. Panic resonated with every word that clattered out of the small metal box.</p><p>“Please keep calm, everyone. We ask the teachers to collect their respective classes and to leave the building immediately or to look for a safe, secluded space within it.” A hoarse, panicked cough which was quickly drowned out by a static rattling noise. “This is not a drill, I repeat…” The man didn’t finish his sentence which ended in a low, muffled groan of pain. “… ah, the bite, John…” Dull rumbling. Then suddenly, the rustling fell silent. A few seconds later, a second male voice started speaking:</p><p>“They are here. Run for your lives. I’m…”</p><p>His last words were drowned out by a frantic, despairing sob.</p><p>At that moment, the glass door behind the girl with the light blonde hair rattled again, but this time, she whirled around.</p><p>Naked horror contorted her face, as she watched a group of non-identifiable shapes press their drooling faces against the glass pane and seemingly merge into a single being with sheer infinite limbs, eyes and mouths. The girl just stood there, petrified. With slow steps and hypnotized gaze, characterized by loathing fascination, she walked away from the greyish blue door with the D27 plate and towards the trembling glass pane.</p><p>But before she was able to catch a closer look at the moving shapes, the thick glass broke with a gruesome clang and big, sharp-edged pieces of broken glass and the apparently human figures tumbled one on top of the other into the grey-washed corridor.</p><p>Straightly in the direction of the motionless girl, who suddenly seemed fragile and frail again. Deep, throaty moans and rattles filled the walls. The scratching of thousands of fingernails and teeth on the freshly scrubbed tiled floor created goosebumps on the back of every listener.</p><p>Only when the door behind her was burst open with a dull bang and one of the creatures had already stretched out its long, cold, rotting arm in her direction, the girl awakened from her shocked stupor.</p><p>The figure whose skin seemed strangely yellow and wrinkled, meanwhile, had straightened up and was walking towards her with outstretched arms, clad in a torn shirt. The creature came closer and closer, the terrifyingly human-like eyes wide open and thick, viscous saliva threads dripping sluggishly from its mouth to the floor.</p><p>She looked into its cloudy, lifeless eyes and pulled the trigger.</p>
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